Leonardo Aguilar II: I know I posted this hombre before, but I couldn’t resist posting more. Little Leo will be effortlessly bi-lingual. His Dad reads to him in Spanish, and his Mom (our granddaughter, Jamie) in English. Maybe I can pick up a word or two of Spanish from our youngest great-grandson!

More Little Leo, in Great-Grammy’s Shawl: I made this garment for a Teddy Bear, and then thought “Hey. It would look even better on Leonardo II!” He’s smiling as if he likes his colorful snuggy.

A Backyard Retreat: My friend Karen is a Master-Gardener, and she has the greenest thumbs (and fingers) of anyone I’ve ever known. Here are some photos she took of her beautiful sanctuary in Waukesha. Karen laid yards of winding brick pathway for an enchanting, rustic touch. Along with the gorgeous gardens to grace her neighborhood, Karen has a Little Library where anyone passing by can exchange books. How great is that!

A Memorable Outing: My friend Liz (pictured below) treated me to a day of antiquing, etc. just across our border—in Richmond, Illinois and the surrounding area. The day was just right: perfect weather, delightful browsing, good food, fun acquisitions, and best of all great company!

A Time to Be Silly: Our daughter Debbie took some of her grandchildren (our great-grandchildren—DUH!) on a surprise train ride and a vacation at a Wisconsin Dells water-park resort. The Amtrak speeds by our road every day at approximately 4:20 p. m. So on the day Deb was taking the children to the Dells Joe and I walked a few yards from our door, and waited at our road beside the Fire Station, so we could wave at the children as the train roared by.

Frequently I cannot resist being utterly silly where my children (of all ages!) are involved, so I had to do what I call a “Do Do Dee Dee Dance” with my derriere aimed at the passing train windows while Joe looked on very sedately from his 4-wheeler. (Joe doesn’t do Do Do Dee Dee Dances.) Meanwhile Debbie caught a blurry, impressionistic shot of the vaudeville act.

And Our Private Heaven: That long cold winter has morphed into luscious spring. A month ago it looked like nothing was going to happen. But now . . . ! The treasures in our patio garden are better than ever (I say that every year), and our patio is the perfect outdoor living room—with sun in the morning and shade for hot afternoons.

And SKY: Those of you who have checked this site on occasion over the last five years know that I have a thing about sky. As a child, I spent countless afternoons lying on the grass, watching clouds while searching for dragons, genies, and horses in the sky.

Now I recline on the berm outside our condo courtyard and watch clouds, with Baby Dylan (corgi) at my side. That is our warmish day agenda. On steaming summer days I flop on the patio lounge for afternoons of reading and cloud gazing, with ice tea ever handy.

Never has cloud gazing been more rewarding than it is here in the Lake Country, with the open expanse of park beyond our door. We are surrounded by lakes, so there are nearly always clouds—ever changing, ever exciting to view. I have years of cloud photos, enough to create a picture book. (That’s a great idea, for next winter!)

In closing, here is a confession of something that I never thought would happen. (Daughter Laura, are you ready for this?) My man is planning to get me a TABLET. Yes, family, I’m finally taking the plunge. Ever since tablets surfaced, I’ve said “No, I don’t want one”—and I meant it, at least I think I did. But recently something snapped. Now I look forward to having my very own tablet.

People with tablets appear to have thousands of pictures. (Hyperbole intended, but perhaps it’s not hyperbole.) Is this writer turning into an ex-writer, perhaps a “recovering” writer? Maybe a picture is worth a thousand words. 🙂 Well, we’ll see about that.

A week after surgery I still wear that pained expression, but Baby Dylan looks great. Normally terrified of the Paparazzi, Dylan was captured off guard because he didn’t realize that a camera could lurk inside a cell phone. His “Mommy” is not that advanced, as blogging is the outside extent of my techie-ness. To me, a phone is a phone and a camera is a camera. I’m certain this will be the last time we’ll be able to fool Dylan into saying “Cheese”!

Since inserting pictures is easier for me at this point than keyboarding a lot of text, here are some recent ones taken just before my surgery. The pictures are worth thousands of words—of which I’ll add just a few for clarification:

Any of you parents, grandparents, and great grandparents have undoubtedly had at least one “Flat” in your life. Above you can see our third—“Flat Ethan”, a facsimile of Three Dimensional Ethan who lives far away in San Diego. Flat Ethan was not prepared for the quiet life Joe and I enjoy in Nashotah, Wisconsin (who ever heard of THAT?)—but he coped beautifully whether buying produce, eating at our neighborhood Chinese restaurant, or simply perusing books while Joe, Dylan, and I slept. (Since Three Dimensional Ethan loves books, it follows that Flat Ethan does likewise.)

Baby Adetokunba Bridget Josephine Adesokun at three weeks old. (Now she’s nearly six weeks.) Due to a stand off with MRSA and surgery, this was one of the last times I was able to hold Tuks—(rhymes with books). But better days are coming, soon!

Left to right: Joe, and our Denver grandsons Joel and Nathaniel Been with two of my paintings (framed in yellow) currently on exhibit at the Delafield Arts Center.

With all my present restrictions, a few activities are allowed and encouraged: knitting (only finger motion is required of my right hand when knitting), limited piano practice (again, fingers only in the treble clef), some keyboarding, and left handed art. The art delights my heart as more each year I’m realizing that abstraction (with a slight element of representation) is my forté—the “Whom I Really Am” in this recently discovered passion.

A large factor in abstract expressionism is the discarding of presumptions, assumptions, and that human desire for “control”. What remains? A serendipitous freedom from agendas or any kind of “other generated” expectations. This freedom is possible only in the arts! We certainly wouldn’t want it anywhere else—that would be anarchy!!!

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words. So here we are, indoors again. ↑ ↓

Still, we anticipate plenty of outdoor days. My foxgloves, black-eyed Susans, and snapdragons are prevailing—and will until the frost. The mums will hang on longer, maybe for weeks. Yesterday I harvested more lavender, to dry and use in the soap.

In just a little over two months, that faithful sunlight will be heading back our way—and then the days of dreaming. Another garden, another spring!

All the arguments against Creationism prove ridiculous and fall apart, when we focus on the basic tenet of our Judeo-Christian Worldview: that we humans are made in the image of God, a Creative God!

Yes, the higher mammals have intelligence. Yes, the higher mammals have forms of communication. Yes, the higher mammals are capable of great emotion—even that of unconditional love. I gaze into my Pembroke Welsh corgi’s eyes, and see undying adoration. My long life has been happily filled to abundance with dogs, and every one has reflected a love and loyalty that many humans can only hope to possess.

But what specific thing can humans do, that no higher mammal will ever manage? Made in the image of a Creative God, we can create. Whereas God created Heaven and earth out of nothing, we must have materials at hand with which to create. But we do create.

As far as I know, dolphins have never composed operas or symphonies. Clever and entertaining as they are, primates do not paint masterpieces or design bridges. My brilliant Pembroke Welsh corgi has yet to bake a cake or stir up an omelette.

Note One: I posted this entry a couple of weeks ago, on my “God’s Word Is True” blog ( http://hiswordistrue.wordpress.com/ ), and decided to post it here as well for two reasons:

1) Some Northern Reflections’ readers don’t know the the “God’s Word . . . .” blog even exists and so this entry would be new to those readers;

2) The weather has been so gorgeous that I’ve only been indoors to get meals and change loads of laundry these days. The gardens and patio have captured my heart. But I did want to update Northern Reflections, since Mother’s Day is a week behind us. Anyway, every day is Mother’s Day for moms! 🙂

Note Two: Here are some photos taken this week around (and in) our condo home in Nashotah:

(Our foxgloves are reminiscent of Beatrix Potter’s Jemima Puddleduck (silly creature!) and the “Foxy Gentleman” who was sneakily seated amongst the foxgloves.) ↑

(Who can resist sticking a derelict chair in a garden? ↑ ↓)

And last but not least—along with reading and gardening—I’m knitting more of those world famous Potato Chip Scarves! ↓ This photo has been posted at the risk of non-knitters hurling rotten tomatoes and cabbages my way.

Yes, I know you may be weary of the potato chip scarves! Good thing I’m hiding behind my computer! 🙂

Assuming there is some wisdom in the saying, “A picture is worth a thousand words”, today I’m offering extra pictures. Some of you have seen the above shots of our Sunday afternoon visitor a few years back, at our home up North. I’m posting them again because: 1) they are fun, and 2) a new online friend, a retired gentlemen and photographer who lives in Finland, had expressed an interest in another photo of a black bear which I posted awhile ago.

For a wonderful tour of Finland, try http://sartenada.wordpress.com/ . You’ll be glad you did! I’m amazed at how Finland and Northern Wisconsin are so similar. (We have the immense Lake Superior for our Big Water.) The entire earth fascinates me, but I love the far Northern reaches of the world most of all! They are “home” to me.

Here ↑ is a glimpse of one of our winter gardens. Indoor plants help to keep us Northerners contented during the long, cold months—and they satisfy our craving for earth and greenery. The structure which houses some of my African violets is a Wardian Case (a replica of course) named after a 19th century English physician. Information on Dr. Ward is available online:

“Dr. Ward was a physician with a passion for botany. His personally collected herbarium amounted to 25,000 specimens. The ferns in his London garden in Wellclose Square, however, were being poisoned by London’s air pollution which consisted heavily of coal smoke and sulphuric acid.

“Dr. Ward also kept cocoons of moths and the like in sealed glass bottles, and in one, he found that a fern spore and a species of grass had germinated and were growing in a bit of soil. Interested but not yet seeing the opportunities, he left the seal intact for about four years, noting that the grass actually bloomed once. After that time however, the seal had rusted, and the plants soon died from the bad air. Understanding the possibilities, he had a carpenter build him a closely fitted glazed wooden case and found that ferns grown in it thrived. Dr. Ward published his experiment and followed it up with a book in 1842, On the Growth of Plants in Closely Glazed Cases.” Wikipedia

I have at present six African violet plants. I rotate them, three at a time, in and out of the Wardian case as the closed container helps to keep them hydrated without over-watering. Fortunately we don’t have any coal or sulphur pollution here—just a gas furnace which tends to dry out our indoor air.

In Milwaukee’s Mitchell Park Horticultural Domes, African violets grow close to the ground in the shade of huge plants in the tropical dome which is kept moist at a constant temperature in the low 70s, Farenheit. This is where I got the idea of a little extra hydration for my beauties. They don’t like to be over-watered (and must be watered from the bottom) but they love moist air.

Our East facing living room and patio door make a perfect environment for the above plants which don’t need (or can’t tolerate) huge blasts of winter sunlight. But our Christmas cactus, blooming instead for Lent, and a few other succulents (some jades, orchid cacti, candleabra, and an aloe plant) happily thrive in the Eastern exposure—with the morning sun.

Our other winter garden sits in our bedroom, facing South ↑. This is a glorious spot for succulents—including large and small leaf jades, and a crown of thorns. The succulents remind me of another beloved place on earth—New Mexico, especially Taos and Santa Fe. The curly creature in the above foreground is a Hoya, commonly called Turkish Rope. I have a couple of these, and delight in them. Maybe that’s why I love my Potato Chip scarves. They look like the Hoya. 🙂

The toothbrush in the Hoya plant belonged to a precious Pembroke Welsh corgi, Meeghan. On the sad day that she died, I put her toothbrush in a plant pot and it has been in one pot or another ever since. Meeghan hated to have her teeth brushed. That’s why the brush is in such good condition. I could almost use it, but I probably won’t! Meeghan also refused to floss.

Now we’ve had a light frost in our county so these warm, euphoric October days constitute the beginning of Indian summer—and what is more lovely? Springtime and summer are as lovely, but what is so poignantly beautiful as Indian summer? Mums in an array of analogous shades offer color dominance—while lemon thyme, lavender, mint, sage, garlic chives, sweet basil, and last year’s tomato plants fool us into thinking we still live in a green world.

Indian summer is a time to pause and luxuriate in the sun, but it’s also a time to say our last farewell to summer. Today I gathered my “garden art”, to be stored in the garage until spring. I have four garden areas. This project took over an hour as so many funky treasures either tower over or hover beneath our perennials and bushes. The items had to be hosed off and transported to the sanctuary of our garage.

Farewell to summer! Farewell to those derelict chairs (1 cardinal red, 1 hippie era orange, 1 saffron) which sat in various gardens for months—holding bounty such as a blue granite pail, a broken English porcelain teapot, and a tarnished silverplated pitcher. Farewell to the vintage croquet set. Farewell to the clay warty toad with a baby toadie on its back—so ugly, it’s cute! Farewell to other stone and ceramic critters: the chipmunk, froggie, hedgehog, and rabbit.

Farewell to the fairy house and the diminutive horses that fairies might ride when no one is looking. Farewell to those wavy, stick-in the-ground thingies on (now delightfully rusted) metal poles: ducks, road-runners, gnomes, sparkly plastic balls, weird insects, and whiligigs. Farewell to the cobalt blue bottles which I insert on bare branches and poles into gardens every spring. Farewell to the brown bottle, and the green bottle as well.

Farewell to the fake flowers which filled spaces where real flowers forgot to bloom. Farewell to the copper coffee pot, the stainless steel perc, and the enameled dippers and pitchers. Some of these will take refuge in our home over the months ahead.

Even as I bask in the euphoric Indian summer sun, winter whispers icy insinuations to the periphery of my mind. Winter will come. Winter always comes to Wisconsin. Winter with its pristine beauty and recreational delights. Winter, with its time of testing. Winter, the proving ground for true grit.

Farewell to summer and the funky garden accoutrements. Spring will return, and another summer will follow. God willing, I’ll be here in 2012—to put summer back together, garden art and all!

Meanwhle as I surveyed my gardens, now devoid of manmade “art” yet still abounding in live growth, I saw an exquisite piece of real art: a delicately patterned monarch resting on a flowering hydrangea.

The garden stuff is fun, and I’ll probably always enjoy “planting” it. But God’s art is best of all, and it’s with us in one form or another—no matter what season we are experiencing! 🙂

sitting in “our row” in church with 10 great grandchildren—ages 6 and under,

gently stepping back in time at the antique barn up the road,

eating ice cream on the patio,

sleeping, waking, breathing in and out!

Sweet savor offerings of praise are going up each day! For five weeks Joe and I have been at home. This is a record. Since September, 2010 when I had spinal fusion surgery right up until mid-June, 2011 when Joe had a heart emergency we have not been out of a hospital for more than a month. The one-month break happened only once. For the rest of that period we averaged a hospital stay every two to three weeks—with each stay lasting from 2 to 10 days.

I’m not clueless enough to believe this blessed hiatus will last forever. We live one day at a time, and when a crisis comes we find peace and joy in the midst of whatever God allows in our lives. But at this moment we are enjoying peace and joy at home, doing “normal” things! 🙂